


All Hail the Prank King!

by yellowumbrellagirl



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowumbrellagirl/pseuds/yellowumbrellagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something in the Spirit of Halloween - sort of. Also a lesson of why you don't mess with The Son of Coul!!!! I own none of the characters!</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hail the Prank King!

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I have too much caffeine and stress at work, I write fic and email them to my friend. Spreadsheets? Meh, who needs those....

MAKE WAY FOR THE SON OF COUL! FOR HE IS MIGHTY IN THE ART OF PRANKING!!!"

Thor's voice boomed off the walls of the Avenger's Tower as he strode along the hallway with a non-plussed looking Phil Coulson perched on his should like a tie wearing raven of Odin. Coulson really didn't have a choice in his transportation, when a god-like alien decides he wants to manhandle you, he does. Struggling only causes embarrassment and injuries.  
The normally taciturn SHIELD Agent and his unlikely, and unwanted bearer, burst through the doors of the Avenger's common room.

Clint looked up from his sprawled position on the couch, removing the icepack that covered the right side of his face as he did so. Thor proceeded a silently moving and openly smirking Natasha. She gave Clint a wink as she prowled over to the bar to pour herself some vodka. A second later there was the sound of running feet and a disheveled and gleefully wild-eyed Tony Stark sprinted into the room. He skidded to a halt and with a grand Shakespearian manner bowed in the direction of Thor and the still unhappily hoisted Coulson.

"Phil, I don't know what to say, I am speechless!"

"I doubt that Mr. Stark," Coulson replied dryly. He firmly tapped the Thor's forearm that was so firmly clamping him to the shoulders of the Asgaardian. In an ever patient tone he said, "Thor, put me down please."

"Son of Coul!" Thor boomed in an voice filled with viking merriment, "It is my honor to carry such a clever warrior as you upon my shoulders for all to see and behold in wonder!" 

"And the honor is not lost on me, I assure you, but my head is about 4" from the ceiling and the hanging light fixtures, and I really have no desire to fill out accident reports tonight."

Thor erupted in a booming laugh and swung Coulson off his shoulders and to the floor as if he weighed no more than a child. Once safely on his own two feet again, Coulson tugged his suit jacked into place. He turned to meet Clint's dark glare unflinchingly and said in a bland tone,

"Agent Barton, I see that the med unit has cleared you."

Clint was about to make a smarky reply, but Natasha's soft chuckle from behind her vodka tumbler stopped him. He swiveled painfully in his seat and leveled a stare at her, she smiled sweetly back. "This is your fault," he growled at her.  
"Это неумелых мастеров, которая обвиняет его инструменты," Natasha said coolly. She didn't even flinch when everyone in the room turned to stare at her. She gave a shrug, "It's a poor craftsman that blames his tools." Natasha perched elegantly on a bar stool unconcerned.

Tony sauntered over to the Bar as well and poured himself a short scotch and smirked at the room in general.

"She's got you there Legolas!"

Clint's scowled deepened as much as his bruised and swollen face would allow and stood up with a twinge of ribs, "I call bullshit! That was not a prank that was attempted murder!"

All eyes turned to Coulson who stood placidly, hands in pockets.

"Archer!" Thor boomed with good humor with an edge of authority, "Admit, with honor, that you have not won the day! You lived, so be not of sour disposition!"

Poor Clint could fire off another comment, there was a thudding of boots that announced the arrival of Steve Rogers. He strode in, all military posture and disappointment. His hard gaze swept the entire room and he crossed his arms, disapproval in every move.

"Bruce is ok, in case anyone cares. He just got back and his getting cleaned up."

No one said anything, they just eyed each other with varying levels of guilt. Except for Coulson, who stared at Steve with what was almost bemusement. He was the hardest person to read that Steve had ever met. The fanboy awe had faded months ago and now he emoted around Steve as much as he did around Fury, which was pretty much zero. Steve felt his disapproval being deflected by the placid expression. This only irritated him more. He was just sucking in a lungful of air to give it the old Drill Sergeant's try when,

"SWEET BABY JESUS ON A ROCKET POWERED TRI-CYCLE!!!! WHAT HAVE YOU PEOPLE BEEN UP TO???!!!"

NIck Fury made his entrance with doom proceeding him. Everyone froze. Even Thor looked a bit pensive. The single eye swept the room, taking in Clint's battered form, Natasha and Tony lounging at the bar, Thor standing like One o'clock half struck, Steve standing at attention, and Coulson - like a duck on a stormy sea calmly riding out the waves.

"Have you all lost your minds!" Fury backed the wrath level to 11. He stalked thunderously to the middle of the room so he could pin down each person with a cycloptic glare.

"Have I missed anything?" came the mild and slightly weary voice of Bruce Banner. Wearing a gray SHIELD sweat shirt and matching sweatpants, hair still wet from the shower, he hung back in the doorway, as if ready at any moment to make a break for it.

"Oh no Dr. Banner, you are just in time! I was just about to get an answer to my question of what in the hot staggering fuck has been going on here for the last week!"

For a few deathly silent moments, no one spoke. Then Clint, pulling himself as much to attention as he could manage, started,

"Well sir, it happened like this...."

 

It had started out, or so Clint explained, as a way to blow off some steam and do a bit of "team bonding", or at least bonding with the guys. No one was insane or suicidal enough to include Natasha. Her Russian sense of humor was a bit more extreme than anyone wanted to deal with. The death of Rasputan, sprang to mind....

Anyway, it started out as harmless stuff, dish soap in the coffee, vassaline on door knobs, shaving cream in the beds, whoopie cushions on Bruce's chair (Tony and Clint had thought hard on that one, funny but not rage inducing and it was the only one directed at Bruce - they didn't want him to feel left out after all). The tazer gun strengthed joy buzzer for Thor had caused no real damage, and serane wrapping Cap's shield had all been in good fun. But the itching powder in Tony's suite had perhaps been on the very edge of good taste, but it had caused Tony to up the ante. 

There had been nothing for 3 very tense days, and Clint could swear he felt the cross hairs on his back. Tony knew he had been the one behind the "itching suite of HELL", so he just had to be cool, but be ready. He should have figured on a direct strike, and the industrial strength adhesive coated arrows and bow was poetic. He didn't loose that much skin on his hands, but no one, NO ONE, touched his bow and arrows. A counter strike was needed, quickly. 

Clint was no scientist, but he wasn't an idiot either, he got Natasha to help him rig the special arrow. He had hidden in the venting, and waited for his perfect shot. It was just a shame that Agent Coulson came through the door first and got the full force of the nifty item. Nat had put in a bit more punch than he had asked for, but it had worked. The detonation, not only knocked Coulson back five feet, but had covered him in an expanding caccoon of blue foam. Coulson took it with good grace, 30 minutes later, after they had finished cutting him out. Yes, he sacrificed the suite to the incident, but he had wanted them to pull together as a team right? But Clint has sermised later (after he had regained conciousness earlier today) that it was the fact that Coulson's hair had turned blue, and stayed that way for a week, had been what pushed him over the edge.

It had been that damned unflappable manner that had lulled them all into a false sense of security. Just goes to show how people can be taken at face value, and for granted. Coulson was a part of SHIELD after all. You didn't get that just for being an Eagle Scout. At this moment, with pain wracking his body, Clint had a sneaking suspicion that Coulson had actually be bounced from the scouts for being an evil genius. Or who knows, maybe they had merit badges for that. Anyway...

The retaliation strike came swift and hard. One would almost think that Coulson had contingency plans for these types of situations. That was a scary though that Clint didn't want to ponder too much on that.

The day had started out normal enough, everyone was into their morning routines. For Clint that was working out in the gym. As it was a Tuesday, it was his day for laps. He had just finished his 25 backstroke laps and was having a rest, hanging on the pool side when Banner's head popped around the corner of the Men's locker room door.

"Hey Clint," Banner called. "I can't find my goggles, do you have a spare pair I can borrow?"

"Sure," Clint said without thinking, "They are in my locker."

Clint thought nothing of this. It wasn't until a few minutes later when both he and Bruce where marking off laps when he heard it. An underwater roar. Turning to look he saw Banner sinking to the pool, ripping off the goggles and starting to change. CLint froze in horrified fasination as he saw Banners body contort and morph. He didn't think to move until the expanse of green flesh came charging at him like a hellish leviathan. Clint broke the surface of the pool and headed tothe wall. He had just started to haul himself out when the wave caught him and flung him up and out of the pool with enough force to get him air born and hit the wall. As he lay crumpled on the wet concrete, fading rapidly into unconciousness, his last lucid thought as he saw Hulk smash through the wall next to him, showering him in bricks, was.

"Coulson, you demented bastard!"

"Tiger Balm on the inside of the goggles?!" Fury said incredualously. He looked from Clint to Coulson. 

"Unintended collateral damage. Dr. Banner was a victim of friendly fire, I am sorry to say," Coulson pinned Clint with a look hard enough to cut glass, "I can sympathize."

Clint threw his arms into the air, winced and said, "For Christ's sake! I am sorry Coulson!"

Before Coulson could answer Fury thundered, "THIS ENDS NOW!!!" He looked at everyone in the room. "You want team bonding, go bowling! Anymore of this and today's little folly will look like a plesant Sunday in the fucking Park! AM I MAKING MYSELF UNDERSTOOD??!!!"

There was a chorus of "Yes sirs" and a flip "If it makes you happy" from Tony. 

Fury headed for the door shooting one last look at Clint. "You dodged a bullet Agent Barton, don't press your luck any further." Clint looked at the floor and nodded. He was almost out the door when they heard a muttered, "I would have put it in your swim trunks..."


End file.
